HoltesThoughts: The Burning Bush

There ain't no burning Bush

No beckoning pillar of fire

No visible alien God

going to raise us from our mire.

We are responsible instead

For everything we do

From our thoughts words and actions

comes deeds we can take pride in or rue.

Yet, among us winds do blow

some gentle and loving

some fetid and fell,

that rot and swell

Salvation walks among us

Quietly telling us what we should do

And where he goes the king of lies follows

blocking our understanding too.

Whether lies or truth we hear

is up to us my dears

So let us listen to our better voice

Because in the end it's still our choice.

I hear echoes of Christmas Songs

Sung on the battlefield one day

when a truce in fighting happened

broken by the forces of authority.

They crossed the lines to dance and sing

And dared prosecution for treachery to do the right thing.

To their Hellish Masters and the king

It was seditious to laugh and sing.

They were supposed to fight and die

for the lord of ambition and flies.

Christopher H. Holte

Note, this is two stanzas in a longer poem composed of stanzas I've written since the 70's

HoltesThoughts